


Stranger At The Bar

by Heliocat



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Advice, Alchemy, Bar, Children, Drinking & Talking, Gen, Photographs, Two Fathers, Wives, philosophers stone, pub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22995346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heliocat/pseuds/Heliocat
Summary: Maes Hughes strikes a conversation with a mysterious blonde stranger at his local bar. He buys him a drink and they shoot the breeze, but who exactly is the unknown gentleman?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	Stranger At The Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaah... Fullmetal Alchemist. Comforting, familiar, good ol' FMA... I've been writing fanfic for FMA for many years, but this is my first post on AO3. I had this idea on holiday about a year ago, just a little side drabble of two fathers chatting over a whiskey. Van Hohenheim - the manga/Brotherhood version of him - is a very underrated character!  
> Thanks to Hiromu Arakawa for creating Fullmetal Alchemist - this is a work of fanfiction and I own none of the intellectual property.  
> British English spellings used throughout.

He sat alone, almost hidden in a dark corner as he propped up the bar, nursing a large glass of amber liquid. He looked rather despondent, a neutral and serious expression on his golden-whiskered face as he swirled the multiple-shot drink around the glass, his tall frame hunched over, as if trying to become smaller. Hughes had never seen the gentleman before, and he knew most people who frequented this place. His eyeline kept drifting back to the traveller as the night drew on.

"Hughes, I think I'm going to call it a night." Roy Mustang stretched briefly, cracking his spine satisfyingly before he stood up and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. His ambitious friend had been called from East City on military business, and was staying in the city for a few nights. "Work in the morning. You coming?"

"No, thanks, I'm going to stick around here for a bit," he replied. "You go on. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Suit yourself," Roy grunted. "Night."

Hughes waved at him as he sauntered out of the bar, before turning his attention back to the mystery man. He sidled up besides him at the bar with the pretence of buying himself another drink.

"Good evening," he greeted the stranger cordially. "Nice night, huh?"

"Yes, it is," the stranger responded politely. He had a soft voice, calm and quiet. "The summer has been quite lovely this year."

"You sure got that right!"

The stranger sipped at his drink as Hughes took a closer look at him. He was a handsome man, dressed in a well-worn dark brown trench coat, under which were some black smart-casual slacks, a waistcoat, and a white shirt. There was a battered suitcase by his feet, which were clad in dusty and near exhausted leather shoes. He wore glasses that partly hid his face behind a reflective glaze, making his expression hard to read, and his long blonde hair was fastened in a loose ponytail that chased down his spine in a silken skein. A full beard cloaked his face in a soft yellow haze. His eyes were a startling shade of gold, an unusual hue, one you didn't often see; they were eerily familiar. 

"Can't say I've ever noticed you around here before," Hughes said openly. "You a traveller?"

"I do travel a lot, yes," he said with a small smile. "It's the nature of my work."

"Oh, what do you do?" Hughes enquired. The bar maid tottered up to them before the man could reply, and Hughes gave her his orders for another whiskey, plus another one for his new friend.

"I'm an alchemist by trade," the gentleman murmured. "I go where I am needed. Or wherever my research takes me."

"You sound like a couple of kids I know," Hughes shrugged. "They're like tumbleweeds, just drifting wherever their intuition leads them. They never stay in one place too long. Alchemy is harsh like that." The gentleman smiled into his drink at that statement.

"Alchemy can be harsh sometimes," he nodded. "That is something I can certainly agree on."

The bar maid placed two fresh tumblers of liquor in front of Hughes and he scooped them up with a contented sigh. He pushed one across the bar, and Hohenheim accepted with a murmur of thanks.

"I'm Hughes, by the way. Maes Hughes," Hughes introduced himself.

"...Van Hohenheim..." said the man, as if reluctantly. 

"Hohenheim, huh?" Hughes pondered. "I feel like I've heard that name before, but I can't for the life of me remember where."

"Oh, I doubt it. I'm just a wandering nobody," Hohenheim shrugged.

"It definitely rings a bell. You haven't been involved in any military business at any point, have you?" 

"No. No, I haven't," Hohenheim shook his head.

"Hmm. I must be mistaken then." Hughes rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully.

"You work for the military?" Hohenheim asked him.

"I'm a Lieutenant Colonel, but really I'm just a pencil pusher. I work in research and investigations mostly," Hughes explained. "Have to do something to keep my wife in the manner to which she's become accustomed!" He laughed. 

"You're married?"

"Happily now for going on six years," Hughes grinned. "We have a wonderful daughter, she's about to turn three. Here, I can show you a photo!"

With any excuse to brag about his family, Hughes pulled a handful of photos from his breast pocket and flashed them in front of Hohenheim, who was a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm.

"Here's my wife, Gracia - she's awesome. And here's my darling Alicia. And here's Gracia holding Alicia..."

"You have a beautiful family," Hohenheim told him.

"Aww thanks," Hughes gushed lovingly. "Everybody tells me that,"

"Well, they're correct," Hohenheim said. "And a supportive family is important."

"That's what I keep telling my pal Roy, but he won't listen," Hughes smirked. "He'd benefit from settling down with a good woman. I think his Lieutenant would suit him perfectly - she's beautiful, although not as beautiful as my Gracia, incredibly loyal, and she'd certainly keep him in line, but then maybe I'm just playing devil's advocate. Do you have any family, Hohenheim?"

"I have a wife and two boys back east, but I've been away from home for quite a while because of work," he said. "No doubt they've grown quite a bit since I last saw them. It's about time I went back to visit..."

Hughes almost wanted to criticise the man for his absence at home, but the wan expression on Hohenheim's face prevented him doing so. Here was a man of many regrets, who really wanted to be there with his kids but, for whatever reasons, couldn't be right now or, more accurately, he was scared to be there. Whatever had led the man to wander had to be something big or dangerous, things which, in Hughes' experience, often occurred following the abuse of alchemy. Seeing as Hohenheim hadn't been convicted of any known crimes, however, meant he was more likely investigating and researching rather than actually participating in anything overly terrible or illegal. Maybe he'd discovered something risky, and wanted to further research it without dragging his family into matters - there was more than just the military who hired alchemists for scientific advancement, after all. Then there were also the lone alchemists who chased legends for their own agendas. Who was he to judge this man he barely knew. "Your work must really be important to keep you away so much," Hughes said.

"You could say that..." he mumbled indistinctly in reply. "My wife was the one who encouraged me to go," he added. "She said I had to go and do what I needed to do, or I'd never be happy and she wanted to see me smile. She's an angel like that."

"She sounds... wonderful," Hughes said. "And smart. Brave of her to let you go travelling for your research while she brings up two children alone."

"She comes from a community of strong women," Hohenheim said. "I found I couldn't argue with her."

Hughes laughed. "Eastern women, huh? They're made of tougher stuff than most."

"I have a photo somewhere," he said, patting his pockets down. "Just the one. It's a few years old, but..." He produced a slightly creased and crumpled photograph from inside what appeared to be a rather extensive leather-bound research book. Several multicolour paper slips peeked out from between the pages and the book was held shut with an elasticated band. He handed Hughes the precious memory for him to peruse, the paper well-thumbed as if Hohenheim spent hours just looking at the photo fondly.

On it were four people. One of them was Hohenheim; he looked positively miserable in the photo, close to tears or maybe actually crying, it was hard to tell. Appearance-wise, he'd hardly changed from then to now. Maybe he hadn't been gone as long as he was implying? Next to him was an attractive and kind looking woman with shoulder length brunette hair and soft brown eyes. She wore a smile that shone like the sun, and in her arms was a baby boy with a messy crop of dark flaxen hair, looking content and happy with a pacifier in his mouth. What really caught Hughes' attention was the older child Hohenheim was holding up, grasping him tightly beneath the armpits. He couldn't have been more than two-years-old in the photo, with vivid bright gold eyes and short honey-coloured hair, wearing the same warm, beaming smile as his mother as he dangled gleefully in a T-shirt and shorts. 

Even with all his limbs and no trademark braid, it would be impossible not to recognise Edward Elric. He'd been small for his age even then, with expressive eyes full of fire and life.

Which meant that the other boy must be Alphonse. He was a cute child, his features that much softer and more refined than his brother's, like a moon to Ed's fiery sun. Al took his looks primarily from his mother.

It explained why Hohenheim had seemed so familiar to him. Examining him again, knowing who he was, you could see where his son had inherited most of his startling features from. Ed may not like it, but in a few years time he would most likely be a carbon copy of his father in appearance. 

Hughes managed not to show recognition, but it took a lot of self-discipline to do so. It was not his place to tell Hohenheim what had become of his family, that his wife was dead and his sons were, well... not entirely whole. 

"How long ago was this photo taken?" Hughes asked, just wanting to confirm his pretty solid suspicions.

"Maybe... how long would it be now? Twelve years? Thirteen maybe?" Hohenheim said. "I've been away for quite some time. I bet my boys wouldn't even know me."

I wouldn't bet on it, Hughes thought. You're probably the only man Ed hates more than Roy, although Hughes felt that while Ed complained about Roy a lot, most of it was bluster and teenage rebellion; in actuality, the boy looked up to the Colonel as a sort-of father figure, which probably explained the dislike as he associated fathers with guardians who abandon you and he didn't want that to happen again. It also explained why the Tucker Chimera incident affected him so badly too, essentially backing up his beliefs that fathers were uncaring bastards. He had developed some serious trust issues with older authoritative men because of this, and he overcame this fear with aggression and aloofness, acting like he didn't care when he really just wanted recognition and support. Hughes had aided Roy several times in the parenting department, as Roy became increasingly frustrated by his youngest charge. In his experience, Hughes found that with the right encouragement and support, Ed was a very amicable and amenable child, if a little coarse around the edges where manners were concerned. He was a little sassy, but he tended to be more conscientious, respectful, and polite when dealing with women in authority, which backed up his hypothesis that he only had difficulty trusting male superiors, not authority as a whole. He was especially popular with younger children and animals, both entities who generally have a good sixth sense about what people are like under the outer layers of sarcasm and cockiness. A handful he may be, but he was a good kid at heart.

Al was the far easier brother of the two to deal with. He was generally calmer and more polite, lacking the abrasiveness of Ed. He'd have been too young to really remember his father, and not being military meant he didn't have quite the same bond with the Colonel, so he found it easier to trust authority. It helped that he’d always had Ed to fill in the gap of ‘older male role model’ in his life, something which Ed had lacked, even though there was only a year difference between their ages. Al idolised his brother, but he also wasn’t above admonishing him for poor behaviour or loose morals. It was useful to have him handy to calm Ed down when necessary in meetings or on missions. Plus, if you wanted to know something about what the boys were up to, it was generally quicker and easier (and safer!) to ask the younger sibling. He was more mature despite being younger in age, but that wasn't to say he didn't have a mischievous side and a nose for trouble. Al was probably the smarter of the two boys as well, but he used his mind for refinement of technique and a more analytical approach to a task, while Ed was more quick witted and resourceful with a brash habit of often acting before thinking. You almost never found one without the other, however, and the two boys were essentially one entity. 

"You seem close as a family," Hughes commented. "Were your boys' well behaved?"

"The youngest was," Hohenheim said. "My oldest, he's the troublemaker. He used to be really jealous of his brother, and they'd fight a lot, but they'd started to get really close when I left. I hope they've grown to be good friends, and that they don't cause my Trisha much hardship."

"I'm sure they're both smart, helpful lads," Hughes said truthfully, handing back the photo. He'd honestly never met two people so closely entwined by brotherhood and familial love before. He thought he was close to his family, but it was nothing on the bond between those two. He knew identical twins who were not as in sync as the Elrics. "You should really try going home to see them sometime. I'm sure your family will appreciate it."

"I think I will," Hohenheim said, tucking the photo back safely within the pages of what Hughes suspected was an alchemical log. He caught a brief glimpse of a few scribbled array circles amongst the pages. "It has been too long. Time really flies when you're travelling all the time. I think... yes, when I'm finished here in Central, I should really head back and say hello."

"That's the spirit!" Hughes faked a smile.

"You say you're in research?" Hohenheim pressed. "Tell me, do you know anything about the recent uprisings in Liore? I ask because I'm curious. It seems odd how quickly the area descended into riot."

"I do, but I can't really discuss them with outsiders," Hughes said. 

"I understand. I'd just heard a rumour that maybe a small group of individuals from outside Liore of an unknown source had appeared and started the fighting for their own ends..."

"Well, the gist is that due to religious differences the area developed into a skirmish. Similar to Ishbal really. We don't know of any small group. Oh, there's a thought. I ask for a friend doing research as you seem a knowledgeable and worldly alchemist... you probably haven't, but have you maybe encountered any information on a little thing known as he Philosopher's Stone in your travels?" Hughes asked.

Hohenheim visibly stiffened, his eyes widening. His grip tightened involuntarily around his glass, threatening to smash it. "If I were you, I'd tell your friend to stop researching such a thing," he whispered darkly.

"Why?"

Hohenheim sighed, relaxing. He turned to Hughes with a smile. "It is just a myth after all," he chuckled. "Tell your friend it is pointless chasing a legend. He'll just wind up going round in circles." Hohenheim downed the rest of his drink and smacked the glass down on the bar top. "Thank you for the drink, and the most enlightening talk," he said, standing. "I have to go now, or the guesthouse where I'm staying the night will lock me out."

"It's been my pleasure," Hughes said.

"And remember what I said about the stone - it is a foolish endeavour to chase after it!"

"I will let my friend know that," Hughes assured him.

"Goodnight Hughes. I wish you all the best for the future." Hohenheim and Hughes briefly shook hands before Hohenheim picked up his case and left. Hughes pondered on the strangeness of the man who had fathered two of the brightest kids he'd ever had the pleasure of dealing with. He had been a reserved gentleman, older than he had imagined him to be, and far from being the scumbag deadbeat he'd been led to believe he was. He hoped Hohenheim would at least find out the truth soon; it was unfair, both to him and the boys, to keep living in this fashion.


End file.
